


the past and pending

by girljustdied



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-09
Updated: 2009-06-09
Packaged: 2019-10-04 20:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17311610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: logan's friendship is harder to let go of than veronica would ever admit.





	the past and pending

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was "what if veronica had been paired with logan instead of duncan for the newspaper story?"

Life has its poetry, there’s no doubt about that. Ironies, metaphors, a nature to downright fuck with you. It’s a fact that Veronica lives with, knows well. But that still doesn’t mean that her mouth doesn’t part in shock when Miss Dent “introduces” her to the boy she’s partnered with for the Chang story.

“Veronica, this is Logan, he’ll be writing the article.”

She slams her mouth shut when his eyes flicker between her and their teacher, pleasure written all over his face.

“Hey, Veronica,” he says her name like it’s a question, like he’s never heard it before. Puts out his hand for her to shake. “So nice to meet you.”

He could at least pretend that this bothers him as much as it does her.

“Yeah,” she bites out, ignores his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Miss Dent isn’t oblivious to the tension between them, tilts back her head in surprise.

“I take it you two know each other,” she says slowly. “Good. Maybe you could carpool out there tonight? It’s over an hour’s drive.”

“I’ll take my own car,” she pipes up immediately. Realizes that she’s acting way too bothered by this set-up, that her unease might as well be blood in the water as far as Logan’s concerned. Leans forward and smirks, “Want a ride?”

He frowns for a split-second, and that’s all the sunshine Veronica pretty much needs in her day.

“Yeah, right,” he doesn’t even bother to make it sound he’s joking around for Miss Dent’s benefit. Eyes her body critically, “Who knows what I might catch?”

“Okay,” the teacher interrupts, laughs awkwardly, “Oil crisis be damned.”

She practically flees the scene, and Veronica meets Logan’s challenging glare and wishes she could do the same.

Things could be worse. They could always be worse. She could develop a rare disease. The sun could crash into the Earth. She could have been partnered with Duncan instead.

Speaking of her ex, he’s very suddenly there beside them, clearing his throat. Logan whips his eyes away from her immediately.

“Hey,” Duncan says, a strange tension in his voice. “What’s up?”

The words are aimed at Logan only, and Veronica feels her throat starting to close up. She 's bigger than this, better. Should say something snappy before she leaves—at least make plans with Logan for after school.

“Where do you want to meet?” she asks haltingly, remembers when she used to ask that question all the time with giddy excitement for whatever scenario Logan and Lilly had cooked up for her and Duncan.

That was a long time ago.

“Look,” Logan replies like she’s a total idiot, eyes flicking over to her momentarily. “I’m not going. I’ll ask Dick who wins and make something up later. Now scram.”

“Logan—” Duncan’s voice contains a warning.

Veronica used to think that it meant something, the way Duncan would do that. Used to think—well, it doesn’t matter, now does it? It doesn’t mean that he feels anything other than pity.

“Answer me one question first,” Veronica says slowly, doesn’t budge.

Logan gives her his full attention this time, leans back in him chair and puts his hands behind his head.

“What are you so scared of?” she tilts her head mockingly. “I’d think you'd want to go see the competition, even if you weren’t supposed to write something about it.”

He mouth parts cruelly—rows of straight, white teeth—every inch of him a movie star’s son.

“Tell the truth, Veronica. Did you just sign up for newspaper so you could be near Duncan?”

He might as well punch her in the face, and yet it’s still somehow less hurtful than Duncan standing there with his hands in his pockets, gaze on anything but her.

“No,” she doesn’t flinch, gives nothing away. “I’m here so I can be closer to you.”

Logan’s face breaks out into a strangely bright smile, and she returns it despite herself. Yeah, there’s certainly pleasure in a well-landed burn. How he finds pleasure even when losing the last word is beyond her.

He shows up at the competition after all, but Veronica ignores him, spends her time taking pictures. Wants to make him come to her, practically keeps her face glued to the camera so that he’d actually have to work to get her attention.

It’s uncanny how much his energy radiates; Veronica knows where he is on the beach at all times—even though she barely glances in his direction. Defense mechanism, she realizes suddenly, and frowns.

“Hey, Ronnie,” he finally pipes up when she’s taking pictures of Chang in action.

“I’m busy,” she mutters, moving forward towards the water and kneeling down in the sand to get a cooler angle. “Am-scray.”

To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. But his presence behind her is as distracting as hell anyway.

“I wish I was out there,” he says somewhat wistfully when Chang’s run is over.

She doesn’t know how to turn that against him. Maybe something about how she wishes that he was, too—with an anchor tied around his ankle. A bit too detailed of a reply, not enough punch. She stays silent instead and sits back in the sand, crosses her legs and holds the camera in her lap.

“He isn’t gonna win, though,” his voice is closer to the ground, and when Veronica glances back she finds that he’s sitting about a foot behind her and to the left. “Form was a bit wobbly. You knock the balance out of him?”

“What?” she blurts out immediately until she realizes what he means. “Oh yeah, you know me, right, Logan?”

“Yeah,” he answers seriously, doesn’t elaborate.

She’d think that she’d be used to this crap from him by now. Most of the time, it’s fine. But sitting in the sand, watching him run his fingers through it with all that strange focused energy he has—it’s harder. It’s too easy to imagine that it’s that golden time a year and a half ago, both of them waiting for the Kanes to show up.

“Can I ask you a question?” he breaks her out of her reverie.

She can tell he’s having trouble not remembering either. His voice cracks at the edges, it’s how she used to know that whatever he was about to say was important.

“Maybe another time,” she breathes out, pushes herself up to standing position and turns to face him fully. “I got the pictures I needed, I’m Audi 5000.”

“What-ever,” he deadpans, fingers shaping a ‘W’ in the sand, eyes looking past her and out into the water.

God, she hates him. Hates how well they used to get along. Walks purposefully back to the parking lot, embarrassingly shaken by so few words from an old friend. Ex-friend. Jackass.

It should be the end of all the crap she’ll have to deal with for the day. Everything after this should be easy. Get to the car, take a relaxing ride home, walk Back-Up, eat some leftovers out of the fridge and watch TV with Dad. But that isn’t Veronica’s life anymore. Easy, that is. She definitely does spend an embarrassing amount of time watching TV and talking shop with her dad.

Her front-left tire is flat. Of course it is. She’d be surprised if it wasn’t. Now her day won’t be complete without—

Something bumps along the hood of her car as she’s bent down trying to figure out if the tire was slashed or the air was just let out. Looks up and finds Logan there with an apple in his fist.

“Bummer,” he half-mocks, but doesn’t even bother to do anything else to fuel her fire—immediately starts walking away.

She really needs to invest in her own tire inflator.

“Logan, wait!” she calls out, jogging after him.

“No!” he calls back towards her immediately as he opens up his car.

There’s a simple math to her actions, despite how much she doesn’t want to be doing what she’s about to:

1\. Her father is busy with the impossible task of trying to prove an innocent Weevil guilty, among other things.  
2\. Her spare tire is already on the LeBaron to replace one that got slashed; the family tire inflator is oh so helpfully stored in Dad’s car.  
3\. It’s getting dark, and she’s in a strange faraway area that would be a very expensive taxi ride home.  
4\. Logan is probably responsible for this somehow and deserves to pay.

Unless there’s a magic pumpkin about to show up, Veronica really has no choice.

She watches him slam the door shut and start the engine, fuming. Acts on impulse, opens the passenger side and hops in.

“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand, Veronica?” he says in irritation, turns on the A/C but doesn’t shift the car out of park. “I’d think after the amount of times Duncan’s said it to you that you’d get the gist.”

“Like Duncan’s ever said anything committal in his life,” she replies without thinking.

He looks over at her for a long moment then, and she can tell that he agrees but doesn’t want to admit it.

“Look, I’m not going to drive you home, it’s not on my way.”

“You’re going to drive me home because you’re the reason I’m immobile,” she asserts.

“I didn’t—” he slurs.

“Maybe not,” Veronica gives him, knows he was on the beach before she got there and that she didn’t ever see him leave. “But you’re still the reason why.”

“You stabbing us all in the back is the reason why,” he mutters immediately.

She’s so, so tired of having this conversation. Puts her hand on the door handle and opens her mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but then stops when the car lurches forward awkwardly and squeals out of the parking lot.

She doesn’t know what to say then, turns to stare out the window. Figures she’ll just have to trust that he’s gonna take her home, although the way he’s slightly weaving on the road is making her start to question his sobriety.

The ride gets awkward because Logan stays quiet. Chatty, mean Logan she can handle. Quiet Logan plans, lashes out with stunning accuracy. She watches his jaw clench tighter and tighter out of the corner of her eye, knows that if she says just wrong one word he might explode. But she has to speak up when he fishes a small flask out of his jacket and takes a long sip.

“Are you being serious right now?” she blurts out.

“High tolerance,” mouth sharp and cruel. “Just like your mom.”

Just like his, but Veronica isn’t going to sink to Logan’s level. Not when it comes to that.

“It’s almost been a year,” he barrels on. “I’ve been wanting to ask you how you plan on celebrating.”

“Not by dying next to you in an obnoxiously yellow car,” she snits, reaching over him and snatching the flask away.

He actually laughs.

“Come on, Ronnie, give it back if you’re not gonna play with me.”

She opens the window and chucks it out, earns a “bitch” in response.

“Have you been drinking all afternoon?” she says seriously, and when he doesn’t answer: “Pull over.”

“Yeah right,” he grumbles, squints out the window.

How does she get herself into these situations? This is getting a little bit too E! True Hollywood Story for her.

“Logan,” she almost growls.

“I’m not drunk, take a chill pill,” he bites out. “I’m barely even buzzed.”

“Pull over and let me go,” she orders. “You’re relieved of driving me home.”

He does so after a brief pause and she’s practically doing a Charlie’s Angels roll out before it even pulls to a full halt. Starts almost running down the road, phone clenched in her palm and eyes starting to well up.

“Veronica!” she hears him call after her, turns to see him following her path. He stops in his tracks when their eyes meet.

Veronica doesn’t even have to break the stare to speed dial her dad.

“Dad? My car broke down,” she lies, can’t even smile at the sound of her father’s concern and does her best to sound okay when she tells him what exit she’s near.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Logan says when she hangs up.

“You’re an asshole,” she slings back. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

It’s not old times. She can’t just get a ride home with Logan, not anymore.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks. Continues when she doesn’t answer one way or another, “Do you even miss her?”

“You know I do,” Veronica snaps, hands in tight fists.

He shakes his head slowly. Whether he’s disagreeing or trying to clear it, Veronica isn’t sure. Lets him just turn and head back to his car, a “see ya” thrown carelessly over his shoulder.

She watches his headlights move away from her until she can’t see them anymore. She misses a lot of things.  



End file.
